The Price of Desire (6 page)

‘Are you all right, my dear?' he asked, his voice full of concern.

Suddenly Georgie was trembling all over, and she couldn't stop tears spilling down her cheeks. Hiding her face in her hands she sobbed silently. The priest sat down next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

‘My dear girl... there, there. What is wrong? Is there anything I can do?'

Georgie looked up at him with watery eyes. ‘I'm Lady Georgina. My father is Lord Marrington.' She saw a flicker of recognition cross his face and he withdrew his arm from her shoulders.

‘I'm sorry, Lady Georgina,' he stammered, ‘I had no idea...'

Georgie cut him off with a wave of her hand. ‘It's okay,' she reassured him. ‘My sister's been missing all night and I've been in the village looking for her. I'm so worried that something terrible has happened.' It might have been her imagination but the vicar seemed to pale slightly.

‘What did the police say?' he asked in almost a whisper.

‘Nothing, we haven't called them yet. It's just so unlike her to leave without telling anyone, but she may just want some time on her own. Besides, there's no point causing that kind of scandal if she's just staying with friends, or with a boyfriend.'

The vicar didn't look like he agreed with this explanation, but he didn't push it. Instead he said, ‘Please tell your mother and father my thoughts and prayers are with them, and that I hope your sister is quickly delivered back to you all safe and sound.' Georgie nodded gracefully. ‘Would you like to say a prayer for her?' he asked.

Georgie looked into his eyes. There was a calmness there. She couldn't remember the last time she had prayed, it must have been as a small child in Sunday school. The priest led her between the pews and up to the altar. He turned to face her and indicated that she should kneel. Georgie did as she was instructed and knelt before him, her eyes closed and her head bowed. For a moment there was perfect silence, then he began to speak.

‘Lord, we are asking for your help today, not for ourselves but for one of your flock, who may have wandered off the righteous path. Please watch over her and guide her back to her family and loved ones...'

As Georgie listened to his prayer he gently laid his hands on her shoulders, the rhythmic patterns of his voice lulling her as he softly massaged her neck...

‘Amen,' he finished.

‘Amen,' Georgie repeated. She was suddenly aware of the vicar's close proximity and waited for him to move away, but instead she felt the hands on her neck gently moving to her hair. Georgie froze, unsure of his intentions, and began to tremble as his hands continued to stroke her head. At last she found the courage to look up. He smiled at her as he then stroked her face, looking at her with something close to pity. His fingers traced her cheek, still damp from earlier tears, and travelled along her jaw, caressing the delicate flesh of her neck again.

‘I have something to tell you,' he said, suddenly looking unnerved. ‘But you have to understand how difficult this is for me. A man in my position could get into a lot of trouble.'

Georgie pulled back from his reach, but remained on her knees. ‘Do you know something about my sister? Please tell me, she could be in real danger and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her!' She began to cry again and looked up at the priest pleadingly. ‘Please help me,' she struggled in almost a whisper.

His expression was troubled, like he was fighting an internal conflict, debating the right thing to do. Finally he spoke; his voice had a slight tremor.

‘It has been said that your sister's forays in the village have not been entirely wholesome.' The vicar wiped away a bead of sweat that had begun to trickle from his temple. He did not seem at all comfortable with what he was about to say, but he continued. ‘I could tell you what I know but I would want something in return.' He lifted his hand to her face again and their eyes met.

‘I would do anything to find Lily,' she promised. ‘My father is a very wealthy man and I'm sure he'll be happy to make a large donation...' her words tailed off. The vicar was shaking his head, smiling pityingly.

‘You misunderstand me, child...' he replied, and keeping one hand against the side of her face, he lifted the front of his robe.

To Georgie's shock he was completely naked underneath, his semi-erect penis only inches from her face. Now she knew what he wanted! How could she have been so naïve? He may have been a man of God but he was still a man, after all. But there was no other choice. She had to help her sister, and if she had to suck off this old fraud for information, then so be it. So she reached up and grasped his thick shaft with her slender fingers, slowly stroking the length.

Swallowing her revulsion she hesitantly parted her lips and pulled his bulbous head into her mouth. His cock stiffened and she looked up to see him smiling down at her, and felt a sudden and surprising thrill. She knew he was getting off on having one of the young ladies of the estate on her knees before him, but Georgie felt a strange sort of power over the old man. She knew how to make the most of her sexual talents and was confident she could have him wrapped around her little finger in no time.

She gagged as the enormous growth reached the back of her throat. The vicar grunted his satisfaction and thrust his hips, forcing himself further down. Her eyes began to water but the vicar held her tight by the back of her head, until she had swallowed his entire length.

‘There's a good girl,' the vicar whispered. ‘Take it all the way down.' He stroked her hair almost tenderly as he half retracted his organ, glistening with her saliva, but her respite was short-lived as her mouth was again filled with his throbbing flesh. His hands moved down her neck and caressed her shoulders, his skin surprisingly soft as he traced the line of her collarbone.

Georgie had to concentrate so intently on her breathing that she hardly realised the vicar had unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her bare breasts. His fingers quickly found her nipples, pinching them clumsily as she sucked on his throbbing flesh. She tried to cry out but all she could manage was a strangled sob, the vicar maintaining his relentless thrusts into her mouth.

All thoughts of her sister were lost. Georgie's knees and legs were beginning to ache from holding her position on the hard floor, but she wasn't about to stop now, there was a fire burning in the pit of her stomach and the tingling between her legs was becoming unbearable. There was something so dirty, so unholy about being on her knees in the church doing something so perverted.

Georgie reached down and pulled her skirt above her hips, revealing stocking-tops and white silk panties. The vicar stopped his thrusts and removed his wet penis from her mouth, the large purple bulb pulsing inches from her face.

For a moment everything was still while the vicar gazed between her milky thighs. Slipping a hand inside her panties she gave an involuntary shudder, her fingers delving into the hot wetness that waited there. The vicar grabbed himself and began to stroke his shaft rhythmically, his eyes still transfixed at the spot where Georgie's fingers were working away under the tight satin. Georgie felt like she had gained some advantage, the power back with her.

‘My pussy's so wet,' she said in a whisper that seemed to reverberate around the church.

Slowly and deliberately she withdrew her hand. Two slender fingers covered in her own juices moved towards her mouth and lingered on her lips. She had the vicar's undivided attention. She put her hand once again into her soft folds of flesh. ‘Mmmm,' she moaned softly, leaning her head back.

She was giving the old pervert a good show, but she knew what she was doing. So what if the aging priest watching her masturbate was making her as horny as hell? So what if all she could think about was grabbing his erect prick and thrusting it deep inside her until she came. But she managed to maintain a shred of self-control... for now. First, he had to fulfil his end of the bargain.

‘Would you like to see my nice wet pussy?' she asked him, still pressing her advantage.

The vicar nodded his head, not meeting her eyes. Georgie hooked her thumbs into her waistband and pulled her soaking panties midway down her thighs. Her glistening mound was clean-shaven, which delighted the vicar. He gasped at the sight and then dropped to his knees in front of her, his hand pumping his hard cock furiously.

‘Do you like what you see?' she asked, her fingers lazily playing over her slippery folds.

With two fingers she held her lips apart, allowing him a full view of her wet hole and swollen clitoris. He was so close to her now; she had him exactly where she wanted him.

‘Do you want to put your big fat cock in my tight wet pussy?' she taunted, and the vicar merely groaned in response. ‘I want your cock in me, I want you to fuck me right here, right now. Would you like that?'

‘Yes,' came his gravelly reply.

‘Then you know what you have to do. Just tell me what you know. I'm so wet, please tell me so I can have you inside me. I know you want it as much as I do. Look how wet my pussy is.' She thrust three fingers inside herself with ease and watched his bright red face contort in turmoil, his desire as a man fighting with his duty to God.

He groaned. ‘She's... she's a prostitute. A whore, a harlot. She sells sex for money,' he blurted, unable to restrain himself any longer, desire defeating beliefs. ‘Ask around in The Greenman,' he continued. ‘She's known to pick up business in there.'

Georgie was not given time to absorb this information; the pact now complete the vicar launched himself upon her, knocking her to the floor. His hands were everywhere, grabbing at her breasts, clawing between her legs, probing between her buttocks. He flipped her over onto her knees, her skirt above her waist, her pert buttocks thrust into the air. Even though she knew what was to come she couldn't help but cry out as he penetrated her sopping hole in a single thrust. With his hot pole deep inside her, sending an unexpected warmth all over her body, she lifted her hips to allow him to plunge deeper.

His frantic thrusts were hard and fast, erratic and almost primitive. It wasn't long before she felt him pulsing inside her, and the warm gush of fluid pumping deep into her.

Withdrawing his quickly softening shaft he stood up, leaving Georgie panting on the floor. Without looking around she pulled up her wet panties and silently rearranged her skirt. She was shocked, about what she had been told of Lily, about her own behaviour, and about how much she had enjoyed it.

Shakily she got to her feet and buttoned up her blouse. Turning slowly to face the priest she found herself alone. He had vanished into thin air.

‘Coward,' she shouted into the silence, and stormed out of the empty church.

 

Georgie couldn't face going back to the Manor. What would she tell her parents? If what the vicar said was true she clearly didn't know her sister as well as she thought she did. Lily, a prostitute? It couldn't possibly be true, could it?

Georgie hadn't been home as much as she should have been lately; maybe she should have made more of an effort to see her sister over the last year. But she had been so wrapped up in her own life in Cambridge, would she have known if her sister was unhappy? Lily could be rebelling, but it just seemed so unlike her; she was such a determined person, she knew her own mind and in her own way she was already rebelling against her parents by going to a state college and wanting a career in the church. She always said with a smile that she would be the first female Pope. And Georgie thought she was only half joking.

Georgie decided that instead of going home she would go over to Bunnie's. Things always seemed clearer when she was with her friend. There she could call her parents and see if there was any news. Lily might even be home by now, and Georgie could be worrying for nothing. But she could also confide in Bunnie, she could tell her everything that had happened in the church, she knew her friend would not judge her, and she knew Lily as well as Georgie did. Bunnie was sure to have an opinion on the vicar's revelation.

 

Bunnie lived with her mother on the outskirts of the neighbouring town. They were lifelong friends of Georgie's family. Both dynasties had lived in the area for generations. Bunnie's family were an extremely wealthy aristocracy that owned most of the land that the town was built on.

Despite Bunnie finishing her education (not that Georgie thought that obtaining her degree in Wiccan practices was a real qualification), Bunnie was content to live with her mother, Anneka, dedicating her free time to tarot readings, astronomy, crystallography, alternative therapies and painting.

Bunnie didn't need to worry about an income. Her father died when she was just six, and as an only child not only did she have a very generous allowance that she couldn't possibly spend, she would also inherit the entire fortune in her mother's will. Georgie didn't even know how much her friend would be worth, but taking the land, the estate, investments and a handful of business enterprises you were talking many millions. But to know Bunnie you would know how unaffected she was by it all. That was one of the things that brought them together as children. Georgie was always treated differently by others of her own age, probably because of her father and the fact that most of the people in the village relied on her family for work in some form or another. But Bunnie seemed oblivious to the pomp and circumstance of their social circle, they hit it off straight away and had been close friends ever since.